


Summer ‘Break’ by Will Schuester

by paburke



Category: Glee, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, Gen, do I need to warn for dancing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paburke/pseuds/paburke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will’s summer job was out of this world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer ‘Break’ by Will Schuester

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Glee amounts of angst at SGA levels. OC deaths.  
> Spoilers: Glee Season 2, SGA Season 3-ish, SG1 Season 9-ish, imagine that the timelines match up.

***glee*sga* glee*sga***

**August 17, 2011**

Mr. Schuester practically dancing through the halls on the first day of school was nothing out of the ordinary for the returning students. The new students just got out of his way and took second glances. Yes, that was the Spanish teacher and yes he was skillfully dancing and dodging through the crowds.

The only surprise to the returning students was the cast of Mr. Schuester’s arm. He had his arm in a sling and it wasn’t slowing him down at all. “Morning Sue,” he greeted the vicious Cheerios coach was a smile.

Sylvester growled back. “Schuester. You look like you tried to walk and talk at the same time. Obviously, it was too much for your pea brain.”

Schuester continued smiling. “Actually that Civilian Reserves Program that you signed me up for… they gave me a summer job. It was great, but,” he lifted the casted arm, “a little rough on my body. I can’t thank you enough for opening that door for me.”

“Wait,” Sylvester said. “That happened already? They were supposed to need you during the school year. It would send your precious Glee Club into a tizzy, you leaving them to do your patriotic duty, working for the military.”

Schuester shrugged. “Nope. Already went and am now back. The timing was perfect. Ah there’s Shannon. Coach Beiste!” he called down the hall. “Be seeing you, Sue.” And he was gone.

News of Mr. Schuester’s entrance and the way he just blew off Ms. Sylvester spread through the school like wildfire. It didn’t take long to reach the worrying Glee Club members. Rachel was the first to track Mr. Schuester down. She practically tackled him.

“Mr. Schue! You’re alright, well, mostly alright, but you’re here and that’s the important thing. Coach Beiste said that you joined the Army and that if any of us needed anything that to call her and that was for the whole summer and then there was a strange car in your parking space in the teacher’s parking and…”

“Calm down, Rachel,” Schuester said.

Rachel calmed down, because Mr. Schue was calm and he was listening and most importantly, he was there. “Welcome back, Mr. Schuester.”

“Thank you, Rachel. That means a lot.”

“But where have you been?”

Mr. Schue smiled. “Out of the country. I had a summer job.”

“But where?”

“It was a very different place,” Mr. Schue looked starry-eyed for a moment, and then he grinned at his student. “With several very different dance styles. Wait until you see some of the moves I learned. Also, I got enough money to pay for a new –reliable- car. That’s my car in the parking lot in my space.” He glanced at the clock. “We’ll discuss this in Glee Club, I’m sure. You better scoot so that you’re not late for your next class.”

Rachel didn’t realize that Mr. Schuester never answered the question until getting ready for bed that night but by then she was more occupied with the Glee Club assignment: tell a story through dance alone.

 

***glee*sga* glee*sga***

**May 31, 2011**

“Mr. William Schuester?” 

Will Schuester looked over his shoulder with a smile. He was taking down the posters in his classroom. He would welcome an interruption to his busywork. The last day of school had been last Friday and Will already missed his kids. The smile dropped off his face when he saw the dark blue military uniform. The man in it was older, completely grey, but instead of having a bearing of lifelong ‘at attention’ he was relaxed and comfortable. And still… there was something about his posture that reminded Will of a dancer ready to step onto the stage. He was prepared for something. Trouble, maybe? Excluding Sue, who wasn’t here because her office and classroom belonged her and no one else and she didn’t have to move her things every year like the rest of the plebeians, what kind of trouble could happen at McKinley High after all the students were released for the summer?

“Can I help you?” Will asked warily.

“I heard that you were looking for a summer job.”

True, but how on earth had a man with that many medals known that? He hadn’t even officially put out his resume, just asking around if any musicals needed staff. He would probably end up with a janitorial job, he wasn’t too proud for that and it was good money. “Yes.”

The man sat on the edge of Will’s empty desk without invitation. “How would you like to teach Marines how to dance?”

Will blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he echoed, even as his eyes twinkled. “Saw what you did with the football team. Thriller. Good job by the way. Teaching my Marines would be a lot like that. We would compensate you for your time, of course. And pay all of your travel expenses.”

“Why come to me? There must be hundreds of dance teachers more qualified.”

“Oh, you were also in the Civilian Reserves Program. That’s were we actually found your name first. The youtube video was just icing on the cake.”

“The Civilian what?”

Will’s confusion must have been obvious. His visitor pulled a piece of paper out of his briefcase and handed it over. “The Civilian Reserves Program. This is you, right?”

Will read the paper. It was typed. The signature was not his, but he recognized it anyway: It was not the first time Sue Sylvester had signed for him. Will was wondering how to politely inform this man that he hadn’t signed up and that he wasn’t interested and…

“We’d pay you sixty thousand dollars up front and have you back by the first day of school.”

Sixty thousand? That was more than what he made in a year. He could pay off a lot of debts with that. Alimony would take a chunk, but he might even be able to trade in his car for something more reliable. 

“Are you interested?”

Yes, he was very interested, but still, he was talking to someone from the military. He needed to ask more questions. “Why do Marines need to learn how to dance? And what kind of dance style are you interested in them learning?”

“That’s a long story that needs a TV with a DVD player to show you. And some privacy. Do you know where we could find some?”

“Yes,” Will said slowly. “Who are you?”

The man smirked. “I’m Jack O’Neill. With two ells.”

Will pointed to the man’s chest. “Are you really a general?”

“Brigadier General.” O’Neill poked at the nametag as if it were foreign. “I have no idea why my CO’s gave me the promotion either. So, TV?”

“This way,” as he led O’Neill to the New Directions’ classroom. “What is a general doing on a recruiting trip?”

O’Neill rolled his eyes. Seriously, a general rolled his eyes. “There was a certain someone on Capital Hill that I was going to kill if I stayed there much longer. This odd request came through and my assistant thought that it’ll amuse me if nothing else. Okay and it’s a bet with a friend.”

Will was trying to match up ‘general’ with ‘amusing request’ and it didn’t quite work. “Can I see your identification?”

O’Neill showed Will his Pentagon ID, his driver’s license, two different credit cards and even his Colorado and Minnesota fishing licenses. 

“Good enough?”

“Yeah. The choir room has a TV and no one should be in there.”

“Actually, there’re just too many people at this school. What about your house?”

“My house?” The general had smoothly opened a door to the teachers’ parking lot and pushed Will through it.

“We checked your house. No bugs.”

Will blinked. O’Neill waved at the young woman in uniform, standing by a governmental SUV. “Rhodes can drive us there.”

Lieutenant Rhodes drove perfectly. The general had claimed shotgun and Will was sitting directly in the middle of the second row of seats. He kept an eye on the speedometer. Rhodes matched the speed limits exactly, somehow. She also avoided all traffic. She followed all of the local traffic ordinances like she was a robot. Will thought she was a little spooky. She also knew the fastest route from the school to Will’s house, without any input from the local. Between her driving and General O’Neill’s fishing questions (no, Will did not know the best place to cast a line), Will was completely unnerved.

Lieutenant Rhodes pulled into Will’s driveway. By the time Will un-clicked his seatbelt, Rhodes had opened Will’s door and was waiting. Will slid out of the SUV and hurried to the front door. He wanted to make sure nothing embarrassing was laying about… though if they had been by to check his house for listening devices they probably saw everything anyway. (Had they picked his lock? Would they tell him the truth if he asked?) Nothing was out of place and Will made good use of his spare moment to start a pot of coffee. Once the percolator started steaming, Will turned around and nearly ran into O’Neill. He was quiet and sneaky and currently smirking.

“Good idea,” O’Neill told Will. “Coffee will make this easier. Do you have cake to go with it?”

Will shook his head ‘no’ and O’Neill looked genuinely disappointed. “Oh well, maybe next time.”

Will didn’t know what to think about O’Neill’s presumption. O’Neill ushered Will into his own living room. Rhodes was standing next to the TV with the remote control in her hand. She passed Will’s remote to O’Neill and stepped back. O’Neill pressed play and people in strange garb appeared on the screen. The clothes were interesting, but what really captured Will’s attention was the way that in casual interactions… they danced.

“We want to draw up a treaty with these people but the team practically got tossed off the land the first time they were there. My language expert says that in order for this to work, the teams need to learn some sort of dance, but he wasn’t sure what the dance was and he knew that he couldn’t teach it.”

Will watched the video for fifteen minutes. So long that when O’Neill asked how he took his coffee, he was startled out of his entrancement. O’Neill handed him a coffee, in his second biggest mug that was heavy with the cream and sugar. O’Neill handed Rhodes a second cup of coffee and kept Will’s biggest mug for himself. Will settled on the couch, started the video from the beginning and drank his coffee. O’Neill puttered around and Rhodes kept an eye on the road from inside Will’s front door.

Since he had already watched the video once, he had a sort of context for the body language. Will watched the flirting in that corner of his flat screen. Those two men in that corner had Puck’s body language: they were spoiling for a fight. Actually, all of the younger men were increasingly aggressive as they danced around the soldiers. The soldiers weren’t taking it seriously because it was ‘dancing.’ Will could see the dance of the mature elders as they ‘talked’ the younger generation down. That pacing right there was worry. That running side step was amusement.

“The dancing is part of their language,” Will muttered. “It’s not just being polite and bowing at the correct level for someone in Japan.”

“Excuse me?” O’Neill asked.

Will pointed out his previous observations and then backed up the DVD. “Wait a second. I’ll show you. There.” He pointed at the balding man in the military uniform. “That aggressive step forward. That’s what those kids that I showed you before did. And he didn’t back up when the… elders tried to reply. The natives understood that better than whatever your translator said. It looks like the polite introduction includes a step into the other person’s personal space as they step back and then the other person steps forward and you step back. Each person gives a little ground.” The group’s translator was a beautiful woman, probably a native herself. Though she didn’t dance in response to the village elders, her poise was completely non-confrontational.

O’Neill rubbed his forehead. “Damnit, McKay.” He sighed. “And of course Daniel had to be correct. Good thing I prepped for that case. Okay, can you teach our Marines how to correctly respond to the Maepre?”

“I can only try to teach them the correct response to steps they might see. But that’s like replying _muy bien_ every time someone asks _como estas?_ It won’t always be correct even if it’s technically a right answer.”

“Would you be able to translate if you were there?” O’Neill pointed at the TV screen.

“Probably. But I’m just guessing based on what I see here.”

“Ok,” O’Neill sighed again. “We’ll double your pay and pay you hazard if anything goes FUBAR.”

Will blinked. That was a lot of money for a summer gig. “Can I bring students as assistants?”

“Absolutely not.” O’Neill left no room for negotiation. “You will be given hazard pay. Hopefully not too much of it. No minors. Period.”

Will watched the Maepre on the recording again. He read the communication in the lines of the natives’ bodies. He wished he could bring Mike and Brittany with him. Mike would love to be paid to dance and it would be an opportunity for Brittany to be considered smart. Both of them would be able to understand the Maepre as easily as Will did. 

“What about music?”

“Music?” O’Neill echoed. “They don’t use music.”

“True, but they’ve danced for most of their lives. They know how to… ad lib it. My students wouldn’t have that advantage. They are going to need music.”

O’Neill looked over Will’s shoulder at his record player. “That’s not coming. Limited space. It has to be digital.”

“That would force me to leave most of my collection at home,” Will argued.

O’Neill looked at his driver. “Make it digital. Buy it if it’s available. Do it fast. And since you are doing it anyway, save me a copy of everything. You have a very nice collection,” O’Neill told Will.

Rhodes saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Since the Air Force was willing to pay for it, Will set Lieutenant Rhodes down with a computer and an ipod. She was tasked with buying/digitizing Will’s entire music collection so that he’d have anything and anything that he might need so far from home. She was also to save songs popular with soldiers. Will had to make his dancing applicable and interesting to the Marines. He wondered if this would be better or worse than all the drama of teaching the football team.

O’Neill waved Will over to the kitchen table. He handed Will papers and a pen. “Sign.” 

Having taken to heart one of the many hard lessons learned from his divorce, Will sat down and read instead. It wasn’t long until he had a question. “I’m not allowed to tell anyone where I’m going?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you where you’re going until you sign. If anyone asks, tell them out of the country –technically true.”

“I’m not allowed to tell them how I got there?”

“Ship,” O’Neill answered. “Again, technically true.”

“Or who I met?”

“You are not allowed to mention the Maepre by name. Group or individuals.”

Will blinked. “I’m not allowed to tell them what I did?”

“You taught Marines how to dance. Again technically true.” O’Neill grinned at him. “We’re big into technicalities in the program.”

“Why all the secrets?”

“I’ll tell you after you sign saying that you won’t tell anyone else.”

Will thought it over. “Do I have to go after you tell me the answers to all my questions? Am I allowed to pull out?”

O’Neill pouted, truly pouted and Will’s first thought was that Kurt would have a major crush on this man if he could sing as well. “But why would anyone want to? It’s a great program run by yours truly. It’s a once in a lifetime experience.”

Will waited. “Well? Can I pull out?”

O’Neill looked disappointed. “I don’t know why anyone would. It shouldn’t be too dangerous and you will have a squad of Marines for bodyguards.”

“Can I refuse the job after I sign?”

“Yes,” O’Neill finally relented.

Will signed the papers. “So where is this mysterious place? Why can’t you tell me?”

O’Neill grinned. “Because you’d never believe the truth.”

“You’ve got a lot of money backing up your claim. So where do the Maepre originate from?”

“A very long time ago, here.”

“Here? As in Ohio?”

“Here as in Earth.”

“Earth,” Will echoed and suddenly he was wondering if O’Neill was missing from some mental hospital.

O’Neill grinned and bounced on his toes. “I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.” He handed Will some stone egg looking thing. Will was looking for someplace safe to set it down if it was dangerous.

O’Neill opened his cell phone. “O’Neill to Daedalaus. Two to transport.”

Will saw a very bright light and then he was on a bridge of a ship. O’Neill was beside him. “Colonel Caldwell,” he said to a balding man.

“General O’Neill,” the other man said as he saluted. The colonel nodded to Will. “Welcome aboard the Daedalaus. Please stay with your escort at all times until you’ve read all of the protocols.”

Will felt the urge to say ‘yes, sir’ which he had never considered saying to O’Neill. He said, “Sure,” instead.

“So,” O’Neill waved a hand about. “This is the Daedalaus. That’s Earth.”

Will twisted and could see Earth out the window. Wow. He had seen pictures, but it was nothing like real life. He couldn’t imagine anything this… wow. He was in outer space. He was in a space ship.

Wow. Will took several steps forward and craned his neck to look about. Wow. He could see stars, the sun was behind the space ship and was that the moon on the other side of Earth? Wow.

“So?” O’Neill prompted.

“Wow.”

O’Neill laughed. “Normally, I’m all for laughing at you while the truth sinks in but we just don’t have the time. The Daedalaus leaves for the Pegasus Galaxy tomorrow and I need you on it, or I need to go through the cart and pony show with another dance teacher. Our people in Pegasus sent word via… radio about the Maepre just a couple days ago and if Daniel called it and we did need a dance translator, we were hoping to send a teaching on this trip. It takes three weeks for the Daedalaus to get there and three weeks back. The Daedalaus will rest there for two weeks while you do your thing and then you come back with them.”

Will was still staring out the window. Wow.

“Schuester?” O’Neill called his name.

Will tore his gaze away from the window and looked at the general. “Uh. Yeah?”

“How would you like to be paid to go to another galaxy?”

“How dangerous is it?” Because the people on the Daedalaus were dangerous looking. Caldwell looked like he would make some very tough choices if it saved most of his people. He had the focus of Sue Sylvester with a bigger purpose. He would sacrifice a minority for the majority. 

O’Neill sobered. “I won’t lie. It’s not Earth. The Daedalaus has more firepower than the vast majority of ships out there. But there could always be someone we hadn’t met yet and if two ships gang up on her, it could be dicey. Pegasus had its own set of problems. Namely, space vampires called Wraith. But you should never see any. They don’t know where our base is and you will be off our base only once and when that happens you will have a full military escort. So what do you say?”

When O’Neill had promised a once in a lifetime experience, he hadn’t been lying.

If Will said ‘no,’ he would spend the rest of his life wondering what could have happened if he said ‘yes.’ Saying ‘no’ was just chicken, he’d never be able to challenge his kids again knowing that he wouldn’t take a challenge himself. He glanced out the window again to Earth. 

Wow.

“Yes,” he said,

“Great.” O’Neill pointed at a technician. “Send us back. Schuester has a ton of packing to do.”

The next thing Will knew, he was in his own house again. Rhodes was still busy on his computer and going through his record collection. She barely looked up when they were transported (beamed?) into the living room.

“Okay,” O’Neill clapped his hands together. “Rhodes here will look after you and get you situated. Do you have someone to call to keep an eye on the house while you’re gone?”

Will thought about it. Emma? No, she would worry. Shannon? Shannon would be a good choice. “Yes.”

“Call them, but _don’t tell them anything_ that you just promised that you wouldn’t tell.”

“Okay.”

“Good. I’m going for a little drive. I saw a park near here that allows fishing.” O’Neill held out his hand and a shell-shocked Will shook it. “Good luck, Schuester. Thank you for helping us. Making allies in the Pegasus galaxy is very important to us.”

“Ahh, you’re welcome?”

O’Neill clapped his shoulder. “You’ll do fine, kid. Rhodes, take care of him.” And then he was gone. The sound of whistling (perfect pitch and an intricate melody-was that from an opera?) floated behind him.

Will called Shannon as soon as the general left. Will remained in his house with the Air Force officer assistant. He had less than twenty-four hours before his journey (holy cow was it going to be _**journey!**_ ). It was after hours for any businesses, electric and such that he was going to have to have turned off for the summer. Mail, he was going to have to have the Post Office hold his mail. He hoped that he remembered to do it all.

He took a deep breath and listened to Shannon Beiste’s phone ring. “Be there,” he muttered. “Please be there.” The young Air Force officer he had been assigned watched him warily. Will was allowed to make phone calls to tie up his responsibilities for the summer, but he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where he was going.

Understandable.

Since he was going _to another galaxy_!

The young woman was to make sure Will watched his words and didn’t let anything slip. It wasn’t as if Will had a lot of experience _not_ telling people where he was going.

“Hello?” Shannon answered.

“Yes,” Will breathed in response. “Shannon, it’s Will. I found a summer job, but I’ll be out of the country and need a friend to keep an eye on everything.”

“Will, calm down. What’s going on?”

“I told you, I’m getting paid to go out of the country and, honestly, I’m worried about my Glee Club kids. What if they need me? They all have my phone number for if they get into trouble or if they get drunk somewhere and I don’t want them calling it and no one answering it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is not calming down. You have time to calm down. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. So yeah, no time to calm down.”

“Why is it such a short notice?”

“There’s only one ship going there in the next eight weeks and I gotta be on it.”

“Will,” Shannon was understandably wary. “What is going on?”

“I told you, I got a job. A great job and I need you to look after things for me. Do you want me to ask someone else?”

“Emma?” Shannon supplied.

“She’ll be out of town several times for counselor retreats. I thought you would be around all summer?”

“I will be.”

“Can you be there for my Glee Club kids?”

“I will be,” Shannon promised.

Will sighed with relief. “Thank you so much. I will owe you big. Call in the favor whenever you need.”

“I’m calling it in now, Will. I want truth.”

Will gulped. “Oh?” He silently begged that she didn’t ask any questions that would violate the confidentiality agreement. The ink of his signature wasn’t yet dry.

“Who hired you?”

“The United States.”

“Why?”

“To teach Marines how to dance.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Isn’t it great!”

“Did you sign already?”

“Yes…”

“I’m coming over. I want to see your contract.”

“Shannon?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She hung up on Will.

Will stared at his phone in shock. Why was Shannon acting this way? Will raced around the house collecting anything and everything he could think of that Shannon might need. He heard the knock at the door seventeen minutes after he had hung up the phone. “Coming,” he called. He clattered down the stairs in time to see Rhodes open the door.

Shannon Beiste stood in the doorway and took one look at the Air Force ensign and stopped dead in her tracks. She glared at Will. “I thought you said Marines?”

“I did.”

“Why is an Air Force ensign and not a Marine helping you pack?”

“It’s an Air Force program that’s spreading out. The Marines are their grunts.”

“Will, cooperative military stations are even more dangerous than regular duty stations.”

“I’m teaching _dance_.”

“Are you sure?” Shannon countered.

“What else am I good for?”

Shannon was frightfully slow arguing that.

Will smiled in spite of himself. “I will be fine. The general said that I’d have a military escort every time I’m off base.”

“Will, McKinley High is the playground of life compared to going into military action.” Shannon told him seriously. “Are you sure that you can handle it? I know that there’s more going on than you can tell me and that worries me. Why do they need a dance teacher?”

“Shannon. You don’t need to worry. Really! This is going to be an experience like none other.”

“That’s for sure,” she muttered.

“Shannon.”

“Will,” the big woman interrupted. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly.

“I need you to promise that you’ll be careful and that you’ll listen to whoever is put in charge of your safety.”

“Oh, I’ll do that. I shouldn’t need to, but if something happens, I will so be looking for someone else to save my life.”

“Good. Also, eat every time you have a chance, you never know when you’ll get the chance again.”

Will laughed and clapped Shannon’s arm. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem with that either.”

“So tell me what needs to be done yet and where are your keys and phone.”

Will handed Shannon a bag, packed with his cell phone and charger, his emergency contact list, his keys and anything else that he thought Shannon might need while he was out of town. “Hey, I just went shopping a couple days ago. You want to take the perishables home and eat them?”

Shannon nodded. “I could take it off your hands.”

“Great!” Will loaded Shannon up with anything that would spoil in the next three months. He managed to shoo her out the door with minimal questions and lies. He was actually proud of how well he kept O’Neill’s secret.

Rhode helped him pack more than his music. She packed his clothes and extras while Will packed up his keyboard and his guitar and as much sheet music as he could stash. She organized everything all through the night and kept Will going until the wee hours of the morning. As soon as businesses were open, she directed him to make the phone calls to turn off the electric, water and cable. She had the Post Office hold his mail. She did any number of things that Will would never have considered, especially considering the lack of sleep. The house would be fine in his absence.

“You do this often?” he asked idly.

“This is my job,” she said.

Will locked the doors. Rhodes tagged all of his luggage and then called up the Daedalaus. Will was transferred to outer space (and boy, did that take some getting used to). He had to lug all of his stuff to his bunk. Rhodes helped and then informed him that he had it lucky, the grunts were six to a berth. Rhodes handed him a map of the ship with the areas that he was allowed highlighted in yellow. She also handed him a huge manual of procedures while on the space ship and warned him that it could safe his life if he read it and followed them. She wished him well and then she returned to Earth.

Will was on his own.

*

***glee*sga* glee*sga***

**June 2, 2011**

Will had read the spaceship’s manual and had been slightly scared. Everything was detailed in there, including the many ways one could die. The Daedalaus was already out of Earth’s solar system. He couldn’t go running to Caldwell saying that he made a mistake and that he wanted to go back. When he asked a scientist passing by his room about all the dangers on the space ship, she had dismissed the possibilities. So had the Marine Will had asked next. The rest of those aboard treated the emergency manual like long-time plane travelers ignored the flight attendants’ safety spiel. An airman named Lorne sat the obviously rattled Will on a corner of his bed in his berth and calmed him down. “Really,” he said. “The ship is very safe. Caldwell has made this trip several times to and from Atlantis.”

That news distracted Will from his worries. “Wait! You mean that we are traveling to _Atlantis?”_

“Didn’t O’Neill tell you?”

“No.” What else didn’t O’Neill tell him?

“He told you about the Wraith though,” Lorne confirmed.

“Yes.”

“Nothing’s worse than the Wraith.” Lorne tapped his earbud. “Lorne to Peters.” He paused. “Can you come to berth C-45? Mr. Schuester was briefed by O’Neill. He needs more details. Bring a pad with video.” He addressed Will again. “Honestly, you follow the protocols and the directions of your Marine escort and you will be back home safe and sound. You will dodge most of the dangers.”

There was a knock on Will’s open door and an older Marine stood there. Peters was a short, compact man with a stern face and twinkling bright blue eyes. “Another O’Neill briefing?” he asked.

“Yes. Please explain all the protocols of the Gate system and Atlantis. Also explain the Wraith.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lorne patted Will on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine and you’ll do a great job laying the foundation that we and the Maepre need. O’Neill wouldn’t have rushed you aboard if he wasn’t confident in your abilities.”

“Ah, thanks,” Will stuttered.

Lorne left and Peters sat down in the only chair of Will’s berth. Peters tapped the computer pad in his hands a couple times and then turn the pad to face Will. Will saw a very ugly, bluish face glaring back at him. “This is the Wraith. What did O’Neill tell you about them?”

“Space vampires.”

Peters thought about. “Sure. That works. They just suck out your life force instead of your blood.”

“What?!”

Peters proceeded to scare Will out of his fear of the space ship exploding by truly explaining the Wraith. Then Peters explained that Will should never meet a Wraith. Like bears were native to Ohio and Will had never seen one in the wild, chances were about equal to him ever being face to face with a Wraith.

The others were more worried about the Wraith, which, while scary, were something that Will was not supposed to experience. Peters reiterated the fact. Will was spending his time at Atlantis and only had one off-world mission and then he was going to be sent home. He could handle this, he could.

Besides, Peters reminded him, he had to set up for his dance lessons, which started in an hour. Peters handed Will a map of the Daedalaus and pushed him out the door because Marines were always early. Being there only ten minutes early was considered late by a Marine.

Will found his dance studio on the Daedalaus by following Rhodes’ map and asking for help only twice.

Will was fifteen minutes early and as Peters foretold, he arrived as a huge group of Marines arrived as well. He was too used to teenagers sliding into the classroom as the bell rang –or were late. Will stepped to the front of the room and hurried to set up his electric piano. Among other things, it would double as a metronome. 

Will introduced himself to the roomful of Marines, mostly men but with some women sprinkled among them. Will told them the purpose of the dance lessons and then showed them the Maepre introduction step. He showed it them a second by stepping into the personal space a woman in the front row and then directing her to step back. Then he had all of the Marines pair up and try it.

Within the first lesson, Will’s name was shortened from Schuester to Schue and then his students began to affectionately call him ‘Soft Schue.’ The Marines were tons better than the football team. Hell, they had a better attitude than the Glee Club sometimes. They were focused. They understood that this could ensure peace and were determined to get it.

But just because the Marines wanted to learn something, didn’t mean that they could.

He literally spent hours on the Maepre introduction step. So much could be conveyed with how much a Marine stepped forward and then stepped back. He tried to loosen their body language. He was half tempted to get them drunk and then to teach them to dance. When he approached Lorne with the idea, he laughed his ass off. Lorne happened to be a major and pretty high up in the command structure so he would know where Will could find alcohol. Lorne nixed the idea; he was sure that the Marines would put Will into an alcoholic coma before he could get them to relax. Then Lorne told him that all of Daedalaus didn’t have enough beer for Will’s plan. It was supposed to be a dry ship.

At least, he had the full three weeks working with every Marine being transferred to Atlantis. The guys didn’t actually mind Will and his dance lesson much, since it relieved the long boredom intermixed with few responsibilities. By the end of the three weeks, he had a good handful that would be able to carry out simple dance conversation without insulting the people of Maepre.

Major Eric Peters had been given a team according to Will’s recommendations. The team might be dismantled after the treaty with the Maepre had been cemented. A bigger group was to be used with Will’s introduction to the Maepre. The Maepre had a stage; Will aimed to make good use of it. They wouldn’t have a stage unless it was used and it didn’t take much convincing to get Lorne to agree to a longer performance. Will just had to decide on music and choreograph it. He played with different types of music and arrangements between all of his dance lessons. He hadn’t decided on anything before they had arrived at Atlantis.

Will’s first view of Atlantis took his breath away. It was beautiful. Will wanted to dance for it. He looked forward to creating a dance that represented Atlantis to Maepre. Will and the Marines perform the bulk of it. Peters, Jacobson, Lingman and the others weren’t thrilled, but they understood.

When Will asked Peters for a dance studio, the CO handed Will a color coded map of Atlantis, much like the map Rhodes had given him of Daedalaus and told him that red meant ‘Danger-Stay Out.’ Yellow meant ‘Science.’ Green meant ‘Military,’ blue was residential, orange were common rooms and purple were unclaimed. Will just had to find a purple room.

He had to hurry to design an ‘Introduction Dance’ for the Marines to perform for the Maepre. Will was determined that it was necessary for a treaty with the planet. It would include all of the base steps Will had identified from the video recordings. For the Marines to properly perform, they would need music to be piped into their earwigs. Will hated the earwig that he was required to wear every waking moment while on base, but it would be useful for this.

After weeks of searching through his digital musical archive on the Daedalaus (a collection that Lorne had insisted he share with the rest of Atlantis as soon as they had arrived), Will decided on his musical selection: An American in Paris by George Gershwin. No words, so none of the Marines would be tempted to ‘lip-sync’ to the music. The score was a perfect base for Will’s purpose. The melody repeated itself many times. Will used those musical notes to cue a series of steps: introduction, calm, protection, friend and humor, or some variant of those. 

Will announced to his students where he had chosen to set up his dance studio. He arranged with Lorne for all of them to be available at a certain time.

After the required sessions, Will gave lessons –and in some cases refresher courses- to anyone that had time. The Maepre were not an ally that they wanted to ignore, so even Marines that hadn’t been forced to endure three weeks of the introduction step on the Daedalaus stopped by to try to learn it. Colonel Sheppard was surprisingly good at the dancing. Will could spot an expensive teacher in his moves, which was a little surprising. Elizabeth Weir’s skill was less surprising. She also had had dance lessons as a part of her diplomatic training. She stopped by the lessons to offer herself as a partner to the hapless Marines. She was too important for such off-world missions, but she was helpful in smoothing out rough edges on steps. She was interested in Will’s interpretation of the Maepre. She wasn’t the only one. Several of the social science professionals quizzed him on his language skills and welcomed him. Will’s Spanish sharpened through use with the PhDs from Spain. His Latin grew leaps and bounds, since it was everywhere. He probably would be able to teach French after this. He picked up tons of words of Hebrew, Yiddish, Czech, German and Russian.

After dance lessons, Will’s vocal skill was appreciated, as was his guitar. He left his keyboard in the ‘dance studio.’ He would sit in the commissary and sing for the soldiers. They were very appreciative and sometimes his students would show off what they had learned in a cleared space.

Finally, Will decided that the Marines weren’t going to improve anymore. He arranged a meeting with Director Weir to discuss scheduling the off-world mission to the Maepre.

It was then that Will explained his plans. “So, the music I chose for the performance I based off of Gershwin’s _American in Paris_ ,” he explained.

Elizabeth looked amused. “Did you write a song, or a score, Mr. Schuester?”

“I just modernized it,” Will argued.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that thing like twenty minutes long?”

“Eighteen,” Will argued. Both of the commanders looked at him so he added, “and a half depending on the conductor. But part of modernizing and arranging it was shortening it dramatically. The Marines have been practicing it. I just need to borrow Colonel Sheppard and Teyla for their part and we’re good to go.”

Elizabeth nodded. “You will, of course, perform for Atlantis before performing for the Maepre. You brought everything you needed for the arrangement?”

Will’s eyes glowed. “Atlantis has the best sound studio _ever_. It made arranging the piece as snap.”

“Atlantis has a sound studio?” Elizabeth asked.

“Not that I knew of,” Sheppard admitted. He leaned towards Will. “Who showed it to you?”

“No one.” Will told the truth, since there was no one to get into trouble. “I found it while I was looking for a place to set up for the dance studio. It’s actually the dance studio. The acoustics are phenomenal.”

“You found it,” echoed Sheppard. “Do you have the gene?”

Will looked down at his pants. He wasn’t supposed to wear his civilian clothes during ‘work’ hours. He had been assigned a science uniform for the length of his trip in the Pegasus Galaxy. “Jean?”

“Genome,” Elizabeth clarified. “Were you ever tested for the ATA gene?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you think that O’Neill has some sort of radar for our kind?” Sheppard asked Weir.

“Also a way to convince your kind to drop everything and come out here,” Weir said. “Remember? You told me no.”

Sheppard stood and waved for Will to follow him. “Let’s go down to the infirmary to confirm.” Sheppard walked with Will and asked, “So Atlantis has a sound studio equipment?”

Will tried his best to explain his favorite room of the base. “Atlantis has a sound studio like Atlantis is a city. It does, but it’s so much more. I took the liberty of recording a few songs just for me.”

“You do any Johnny Cash?”

“I could, I suppose. It’s not normally requested.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up.”

The next day, Will and the Marines performed the dress rehearsal as Weir had requested.   
Will couldn’t argue with the performance given to the residents of Atlantis. The Marines were technically perfect and Sheppard and Teyla rocked their part. He knew that something would change during the Maepre performance. It always did between the dress rehearsal and the final show. He just wished that the Marines would relax some and have fun. They were just so stiff.

They did earn a standing ovation from the audience and Weir declared that they were ready for the mission that would occur the following day. The Marines were getting performance anxiety. Meanwhile Will was quietly freaking out over his first trip through a Stargate.

Lorne elbowed Will. “You’re in Sheppard’s jumper. Best pilot we have.”

Will nodded. “Good.”

The next morning Peters was waiting for Will outside his berth. Peters was his assigned bodyguard and took the time as he directed Will to the jumper bay to detail every off-world protocol. Will had already read and memorized most of them. He knew that wormholes were one way and not to jump into one that someone had just jumped out of. Will knew the wormhole address for Atlantis and understood what a DHD looked like. Will knew that Peters would never be more than twelve feet away and Will was _never_ to be without his Atlantis protective detail.

Will had heard all of this before, but didn’t mind hearing it again. He relaxed during the lecture, enough that riding in Sheppard’s puddle jumper was kinda fun. Sheppard landed the jumper so smoothly that Will didn’t know precisely when. Lingman opened the bay door and Will followed the Marines out of the jumper and onto the ground of a planet in the Pegasus galaxy.

Wow.

Peters ushered Will forward. Will obeyed. Until he was back on Atlantis, he would obey everything that Peters told him. He did swivel his head to see the second puddle jumper land and more Marines pour out of it. As a group, they walked toward the Maepre.

Will was in the middle of the group as they trekked through the woods to the village. To protect the secrecy of Atlantis, they wouldn’t fly the jumpers too near the civilization. The Marines were all on alert, though Will caught one or two of them practicing different steps. Will wished he could encourage them, but he was too nervous about being on a different planet that didn’t seem all that different. Will was never one for being able to identify plants at a glance, so he didn’t know if the trees and shrubs were similar to back home or not. He did notice that they were deciduous, so they probably had seasons of some sort.

The Maepre were waiting near the stage. Will was proud of his Marines as each one found someone to dance the introduction step with on their way to their place on the stage. Sheppard gave Will a thumb’s up at the impressed faces of the Maepre.

Will took center stage and waited. This was it. A treaty depended on the performance. Now he got nervous.

Will heard the first notes of ‘An American in Paris’ in his earbud. He danced the Maepre introduction step, protection step and humor step for a smiling little girl standing next to her father. Then Will whirled away and danced something to represent Atlantis. The next time Will danced to the overlaying melody of American in Paris, it was with a spry older woman. She didn’t just accept Will’s attention; she became part of the dance for a quick whirl around the stage. Will considered this a good sign for diplomacy but a bad sign for the Marines that had memorized the performance. They weren’t prepared sudden changes to the choreography. Will danced her back to her partner and with a quick bow and a heartfelt thank-you smile moved on to the next part of the performance.

The digitized trumpets in Will’s ear were the cue for the Marines to do their part. They were emphasizing the protection step while changing formation. Will weaved among them to add subtlety and depth to their message. From the way that the younger men looked intrigued and the older men looked interested, Will knew that he message was getting across.

The third time Will danced the melody steps, three young women competed to be his dance partner. The one with the darkest hair won out and she was quick on her feet as she danced the complimentary steps. Will returned her off-stage and joined the Marines. “They’ll join us on the next melody cue,” he warned them. Will tried not to snicker at the horrified look on the dancers’ faces.

Will led the entire group, dancing, to the front of the stage where, in unison, they dance the introduction step, protection step and humor step for those in the front row. As Will had expected, a Maepre danced the complimentary steps in tandem with the Marines. Jacobson nearly stepped on his partner’s toes, but other than that, they did well with the unexpected.

Will and the other Marines returned the Maepre to the edge of the stage. They bowed to their individual partners and stepped back and to the side. Sheppard and Teyla took center stage. Together, they danced the story of their first meeting, using the Maepre steps. Will had wanted to show the Maepre that Atlantis would hold their side of the bargain; they had taken in Teyla’s people when the worst had happened. Will watched the faces of the natives, they seemed to understand the purpose of the dance.

Sheppard and Teyla finished their dance, bowed to each other and then stepped forward. They danced the introduction step to the village leader and his wife. The leader and his wife welcomed them off the stage and motioned for them to follow into the ‘town hall.’

Will grinned. Sheppard had a good chance to get his treaty.

Like a switch had been flipped, the Maepre freely mingled with the Marines. There were several tentative dancing conversations going at once. Then Will heard a whine, higher pitched and mechanical. What was that?

“ _WRAITH!!!_ ” someone yelled. The stage erupted into chaos. Peters grabbed Will’s arm and started dragging him.

“There’re caves this way,” Peters shouted over the whine of the dart overhead and the screams of the villagers around them. “Run."

They barely made it. Will was in shape but it wasn’t the same type as in shape as running for one’s life. Peters dragged him the whole way to the cave. He wouldn’t let Will stop to help any of the natives. He didn’t let Will stop for anything at all. He had orders to get Will to safety first and he was going to obey that. 

The darts came close some times. It was scary as hell. They finally made it to the caves. Peters pushed Will inside and stood guard at the door. He muttered on his comm to the rest of his team. Will was too busy huffing for breath to catch most of the one-sided conversation. He was mostly aware of natives running into the cave, but they didn’t stop at the entrance, they kept on going deeper into the earth.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Soft Schue,” Peters said. “If we get a chance, we’re running for the Jumper. The Jumper would be safer than this. They were just further away. There’s probably drones on the ground between here and there.”

“We’re not going deeper?”

“There’s no way out. I asked. You get just one drone finding the entrance they’re all toast. The darts were the immediate danger.”

Will decided that if they were going to be running again that he better stretch. He didn’t want a cramp. Peters was amused, but he kept his eyes firmly on the dangers outside.

“It’s well coordinated, for all that it’ll kill us,” Peters muttered. Will stood at his elbow; Peters wouldn’t let him take another step out of the cave. 

“What is?” 

“Their attack. It’s always shifting and catching people out.”

Will watched the Wraith darts scream across the sky and suddenly it made sense. Will didn’t know if it was all the adrenaline running through his bloodstream or what, but the darts flying sure looked like… “Choreography.”

Peters shrugged. “It’s deadly, not knowing where they’ll be next.”

“But you can know,” Will insisted. “It’s like watching a competitor’s choreography. Like that one goes in a straight line to there and that one will follow the paths to get to that corner and that one is a half-step behind where he should be.” Will pointed at the individual darts and predicted their movements.

Peters’ jaw dropped as Will’s predictions came true. “Do it again,” he ordered, even as he stepped protectively in front of the civilian. Will obliged and again he was correct.

“Are there holes in their offense?”

“Yeah. It looks like they’re missing a couple of dancers.”

“Can you talk me through the holes?” Peters asked as he dropped his backpack.

Will’s eyes narrowed. “I think so.”

“Okay. If I go out there, you have to stay put. Under no conditions do you leave this cave. You have to stay alive to tell the Colonel what you understand about the Wraith formations. That’s more important than keeping me alive. Is that clear?”

Will blinked. “But…”

“I won’t go out there to help people unless you promise to stay put. My orders are to keep you safe no matter what. You have to stay alive. Is that clear?”

“Crystal. I promise.”

“Good.” Peters looked out among the chaos. “Where am I going?”

“Left.”

Peters’ head swung toward his left.

“Okay, you’re the audience, I’ll adjust accordingly, but really you’re going right.”

For the first time, Peters’ looked worried. “Can you remember that?”

Will gave him a dirty look. “Can I remember stage left and right?”

Peters relaxed and leaned forward. “I’m ready when you are.”

“You’re going to run to the black, twisted up tree, turn left, dart straight across the path to the woods on the other side and then I’ll be yelling directions.”

“Got it.”

“Twenty seconds,” Will told him. Then he leaned over Peters to wave his arms to the oncoming group of Marines and civilians. They were obviously trying to join Will and Peters in the safety of the cave. “Stop! Stop! Left! Left! Left!” He used his whole body to convey the order, which retrospectively was why the natives obeyed almost as well as the Marines.

The Marines obeyed the order and stepped left off of the path and dragged as many of the civilians that they could reach with them. Just as soon as they were off the path, a dart flew by. The civilians that hadn’t obeyed Will vanished in the beam. Will pushed Peters out of the cave and yelled, “Go! Go! Go!” He was also waving at the oncoming group, urging them to come forward now.

Will had no idea how much time had passed. He felt like a safety crosswalk officer. Stop. Go. Left. Right. Back. Wait. Wait. Wait. Run. He directed group after group and was also directing Peters further afield who was sending groups toward Will to bring into safety. 

One old man tripped and fell in the path outside the cave. Will jumped forward to help him the final five yards, but was pulled back by a Marine on each side. He also stumbled over the Marine sitting in front on him with a gun. “Stay put,” the Marine on the left ordered Will. “You’re more valuable here.” Without being ordered, another Marine ran out and carried the old man to safety. Will might have argued but another group was waiting for the ‘Go’ signal. Will waved them ahead. The Marine in that group pushed a father carrying two little girls into the path and right into a dart beam.

Will stepped back, horrified. He had just sent the little family to their death. He had…

The bossy Marine on Will’s left turned the teacher his way and slapped him –HARD. “Shake it off.”

“I killed…”

“You led twenty-three groups to safety.”

“But I…”

“Shake it off!” The Marine yelled at him. “You are human. One out of twenty-three! You are allowed to make a mistake.”

“But they’re dead…” The Marine slapped him again. Will knew that he knew that face, but he couldn’t remember his name, all Will could remember were the faces of those who had died.

“More will be by your inaction, than by your action.” The Marine pointed to the same group waiting in the woods. “Reassess and give directions. They won’t move until you say to!”

Will turned and saw that despite everything, there were three groups waiting for Will to give the go-ahead. He took a deep breath and knew that he had to move the groups before a Wraith dart found them. He listened for the discordant music of the darts, saw where each one was and knew where each one was going. Will waved one group to the right, one group back and waved the final group forward. Just that quickly, Will fell back into the rhythm of directing the choreography of the refuges. 

Will had no idea how long he continued. He lost two more people: an older couple that had lagged behind their group and Will hadn’t started them forward soon enough. He felt the Marine’s hand tighten on his arm, but continued without needing slapped. He had to get through this. He could get through this. All he knew was that the darts’ rhythm had slowed and the cave was full. It was a good thing the natives had dug it out so deep. There were a couple hundred people behind him. “I don’t hear anymore darts,” Will told the Marine that had hit him.

“Keep bringing them in to safety,” the guy ordered him gruffly. “There might be Wraith foot soldiers out there. The people are safer in here.”

Will nodded and waved another group forward. Finally, Peters stepped into the cave. “You did good, Soft Schue,” 

“Five died,” Will argued. “I watched them. I directed them...”

Peters put both hands on Will shoulders and shook him slightly. Then he turned Will around to see the people in the cave. “Watch these. You directed them to life.”

“I… I…” Will saw all the faces: young, old, Natives and Atlantians. 

Peters pushed Will down until he sat on a rock. “Watch him for shock,” he ordered those around him.

Will heard a chorus of ‘Yes, sir’s. He heard muted orders and crying and words and… music? Will heard the lullaby- for that was what it had to be- a lullaby or a funeral dirge. Will surged forward. He couldn’t stay and listen to that. He couldn’t…

A Marine caught him and stopped him from running. “Stay put,” the young man said.

“I can’t stay,” Will was ashamed of the tears running down his cheeks but didn’t have any control. “Please, please. Let me go somewhere that I can’t hear that.”

“Cohn!” the young Marine yelled. “We’re walking the perimeter.”

Cohn frowned. “Take Jacobson with you, Lingman.”

“Yes, sir.”

It turned out that Jacobson was the one that had slapped sense into Will in the middle of the battle. He didn’t treat Will any less for his breakdown. Will wandered a bit, but not far. The Marines were worried about Wraith around. Will really didn’t want to meet up with the aliens face to face. So when Jacobson suggested returning to the cave, Will readily agreed. He had an important question to ask.

“Can I do something for the families,” Will asked Cohl. “For those who… died?” If he said killed, or hinted that it might have been his fault, the Marines would say no. Some nonsense about caring for his metal health. That had been the excuse Peters had given about not telling him the names of those who had died.

Cohl frowned. Granted he didn’t have any orders to the contrary, but he didn’t like the idea. Peters had tasked him with Will’s mental health. Lingman stepped close and whispered something in Cohl’s ear. Cohl’s frown deepened. “The family did inquire about you dancing their funerals.”

Will leaned forward. “I can do that. Where are the families? I’ll talk to them about what they want.”

Cohl debated internally before nodding once.

Lingman stepped forward and said, “This way, sir.” Lingman led Will to the little knot of women. In the middle was a pre-teen girl, younger than his Glee Club members. In her lap was a baby girl. Will vaguely remembered her being behind the father carrying the two girls. 

It took a moment for Will to make the connection. “Where’s the rest of her family?”

“Wraith,” Lingman said.

They were alone in the world, their world. It was Will’s fault. “I could take them…”

“No,” Lingman told Will firmly. “The Wraith are a fact of life in the Pegasus Galaxy. All the planets have a method for adoption. Dance for them, Soft Schue. That’s how you can help.”

Will wanted to argue. He had the house; he could afford it. Then he looked at the girls’ simple clothes and how well they dealt with the tragedy. They were dealing better than Will was and he didn’t even know their names. They would never fit in on Earth, not even in the Glee Club, not with the way they had grown up dancing to communicate. They were strong enough to survive in this harsh world. They might just thrive in this world if Atlantis helped the planet. The village would accept help from Atlantis, because Will had danced the treaty. Will nodded. “I’ll dance for them.”

Lingman pointed to the ground, indicating that Will should stay put. Will nodded. Lingman stepped forward to talk with the girl and the other natives. Lingman conveyed Will’s agreement to dance and asked about funeral dances. The girl whispered something and Lingman nodded. He stepped back to Will’s side.

“She said that whatever you did would work.”

“But…”

“They want to see what you’ll come up with. I think they want to expand their repertoire of dance steps.”

Oh. Will could do that. “How long do I have to practice?”

“A couple hours. Everyone interns their dead pretty quick around here.”

Will winced. “Where can I go to practice?”

“Peters had Jacobson looking for safe, flat land for you. Should have found some by now.” Lingman led Will back to Peters and Cohl.

“What about the older couple?” Will asked the squad just as Jacobson was returning to the cave and Peters returned from reporting in to Sheppard. “Can I dance for their funeral too?”

Peters looked at his team. “Anyone ask you ‘bout Soft Schue on behalf of the couple?”

“No one, sir,” Cohl answered for all of them.

“Could they be visiting from a different village?” asked Will.

“Why would you think that, sir?” Lingman asked.

“Have you ever seen a ballerina run?” Will asked the squad of Marines. They all gave him a blank look. “They don’t walk the same, even when they aren’t dancing. They don’t run the same. The older couple, they didn’t run the same as the rest of the natives, even accounting for the affects of age on the body.”

“And no one is claiming them for the funeral dance,” Peters mused. “Lingman, Cohl. Question all of the natives. Find someone, anyone who will claim them.”

“Wraith worshipers?” Cohl asked.

Peters nodded sharply. “And where they were taken up. It’s suspicious. Schuester.”

Will’s head jerked up as if on a string. “Yes?”

“Good catch. You don’t go _anywhere_ alone. You have a Marine escort at all times. Jacobson and I will keep an eye on you as you practice.”

Will blinked. He was still stuck on the idea that someone –anyone- would worship the Wraith. “What? Why?”

“Because you were able to predict and counter the Wraith darts,” Peters told him. “And the couple saw that.”

“You really think that they would worship the Wraith? Why would anyone worship the Wraith?”

“They can make you old and then make you young at anytime they choose, once you are one of their chosen ones,” explained Peters. “Humans can get addicted to it pretty fast and severely. The Wraith would know about the caves. They have too, they need some humans to survive to continue reproducing their food, but they had been unsuccessful in picking off some at a bottleneck. They probably get most of their meals from that bottleneck. They needed someone on the ground to report why.”

Will shook his head. “Isn’t that a kinda farfetched theory based on the fact that I think that they weren’t from the village because they didn’t run the same?”

“Schuester,” Peters said firmly. “There is no other village. This is the only one village on the whole planet.”

“Oh.”

“Good catch, by the way,” said Peters. He looked to the other Marines. “You have your orders. Find family of the older couple.”

The Marines saluted and executed a quick left face and scattered. Will idly wondered if he could work such steps into New Directions choreography.

“This way, sir,” Jacobson pointed out towards the woods.

Will nodded and followed. The field Jacobson had found was relatively flat and had few dips and holes. Will mapped out the approximate size of the stage and planned out his choreography. He practiced until a native found them to tell them that it was time for the funeral dances.

As the visitor, Will was dancing the first funerals of the Wraith attack. Part of him wanted to be last, so as to see how everyone else danced funerals on the planet, but he did have a plan now which he had practiced, and he would change it if he saw something ‘necessary.’ That would make his own dancing jerky and not nearly as smooth as the dead deserved. Like with Regionals, there were advantages to both positions in the schedule.

Will started off slow, dancing out meeting people, polite introductions (step forward, step back). Then he danced the confusion of the Wraith attack, of finding safety and then of directing others to safety. He danced how the father must have felt, carrying his daughters and seeing Will and being so close to safety. 

Then he stopped dancing the father’s part. Will danced his own, alone, he danced looking for the small family. He twirled frantically around the stage. He had planned on doing a full circuit.

But then the older daughter was there, standing in front of him. She held her baby sister in her arms.

Will slid to a stop. He had to so that he didn’t run them over and all three of them would go crashing to the stage floor.

She stepped forward. Will stepped back.

She waited. So Will finished the introduction: he stepped forward and she stepped back. She looked up at him. She arranged her baby so that she could hold the infant with one hand. With her free hand she pulled Will’s head down until his forehead touched hers. Teyla had done something similar when introduced to Will. Will was forced to look into her eyes. He was forced to face what he had done and yet…

All he saw was forgiveness.

Peace.

Will collapsed to his knees in front of her. He was sorry, so sorry. For this girl whose name he would never learn. The Marines refused to let him ask and refused to tell him. He was sorry for her father and her sisters, more nameless faces that would wake him from nightmares months from now. He needed her peace.

He accepted her peace and bowed his head.

The girl placed her baby sister into Will’s arms and stepped back.

He had a dance to finish, a promise to fulfill. Will looked down into this child that would never remember her father’s face, but was content in his arms. She too was at peace. Will knew that he was reading into the situation, but he had to. He felt free, like the cloud had lifted. Rain would come again, but he would survive. If these two could be content while surviving their personal hurricane, so could Will.

So Will danced as if he was singing in the rain. He danced it, shared it with the child. He danced it for the daughters. He danced for the rest of the village. He stepped high for the Atlantis solders. Finally (putting himself in last place, where he belonged) he danced for himself. He would be going home. Home to safety.

He finished the dance at the older sister’s feet. He handed her her baby sister, bowed and walked away deep in thought. As much as he wanted to see the other funeral dances, he had to think some things through.

Will decided that the Warblers had the right idea: in the off season, New Directions should be singing at nursing homes and other places where the residents were in a much worse situation than High School could ever be. Will needed to get Glee Club’s attention off themselves. He wouldn’t be successful, mostly because they were teenagers, but he might be able to give them memories for when they matured. 

Emma would have some suggestions as to where the Glee Club could perform, Will decided as he walked aimlessly in the quiet woods outside of the town. Even if the performances didn’t put things in perspective for the kids, it would help Will keep from getting embroiled in the petty life of McKinley High. Will needed the opportunities, like when he and Sue went to the children’s cancer ward. That was one of the most precious memories Will had of the previous school year.

Someone grabbed Will’s arm. He had a moment of surprise, of realizing that that hand was the wrong color and too strong and then the bone in his upper arm snapped. He screamed in horror and surprise. He screamed in pain.

His scream was drowned out by the sound of bullets firing and something that sounded like electricity. The Wraith still had a grip on his arm when he fell over dead. Will scrabbled at the hand, trying to pry it off his arm. When he was free; he cradled his arm against his body as he scrambled away. Back. Back. Back.

A Marine stood over the Wraith and shot it over and over and over again.

Someone touched Will’s good shoulder and Will lurched in the opposite direction.

“Schuester? Soft Schue? Will? Will?”

Will understood his name at last. He turned his head, blinked and saw Lingman. Lingman. A Marine. He was safe with a Marine, with this Marine, Lingman.

“Soft Schue?” Lingman called out to him.

Will nodded back sloppily. Yes, that was Will’s nickname.

“What hurts?” Lingman asked.

Will raised his bad arm and fireworks shot up and down his body. His eyes closed involuntarily. A hand touched his good shoulder again. Will flinched, but not as bad as before. He opened his eyes and Lingman was crouched down right in front of him.

“Did he touch anywhere else?” Lingman asked.

Will’s confusion must have showed on his face.

Lingman reached a hand toward Will’s chest. “Did he touch you here?”

Will looked down to Lingman’s hand firm against the middle of Will’s chest. Why would Lingman….? Oh, that video, the instructional video that he had been shown in his briefing about the Wraith. That was how the Wraith fed. 

“Did he touch you here?” Lingman asked again.

Will shook his head. No. He didn’t think the Wraith had fed. He wasn’t any older, was he?

“Can you stand?” 

Will looked up. Lingman again, he was still talking. A second Marine stood at Lingman’s side. Was he the one who asked the question? Will finally recognized the Marine. Jacobson. Jacobson, the one who had slapped him twice. Will leaned away from Jacobson, he didn’t want hit again, even if it made him think clearer.

Jacobson rolled his eyes. “We gotta get him back to Atlantis,” he told Lingman. “’Tween the shock and the broken arm, he’s in bad shape. Bind him up so that we can get him to the Jumper, pronto.”

“Yes, sir.” Lingman set down his pack and pulled out gauze rolls. “This is going to hurt, Soft Schue.” Lingman touched his arm and pulled it straight and stars burst on Will’s sight. He felt a hand holding him in place by his good shoulder. When Will could think again, his arm was snug against his chest and the pain dulled to a steady throb.

Jacobson had a hand in front of Will’s face and a canteen swinging from his wrist. “Take ‘em.”

Will had to lift up a bit to see the little white pills in his hand. He looked up questionably.

“Pain pills,” explained Jacobson. “It’ll make the trip to Jumper easier.”

Made sense. Will reached out and picked up the pills with shaking hands. He managed to swallow them and wash them down with water. He was vaguely aware that Jacobson had his back to Will, watching the forest for more dangers.

“Done?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, get him up,” Jacobson ordered.

Lingman muttered a quiet, “Yes, sir.” He crouched on Will’s good side and heaved him up. Will scrambled to put his feet under him. Lingman provided support on one side and Jacobson provide support on the other. They both waited until the black cleared again and Will’s stomach stopped trying to regurgitate the medication. 

“Ready?” Jacobson asked.

Will nodded.

Cohl and Peters ran up to the group. Cohl veered off to confirm that the Wraith was dead. Peters charged Will and his protective detail. “What did I tell you about your escort?” Peters demanded.

“Uhmmm,” Will couldn’t remember.

“You go nowhere alone.” Peters told him.

Oh, yeah. That was it. Will had forgotten amidst the revelations he had gained from the funeral dance.

Peters looked to Lingman, “No attempt to feed?”

“None, sir.”

“Damnit,” Peters swore. “They never would have sent only one drone to abduct him. I’ll take point, Cohl, drag. We need to get Schuester back to Atlantis and then bring back more squads to flush them out.”

Will spent most of the march to the Jumper in a daze. Jacobson’s pain meds worked like a charm. He went straight from the Jumper to the infirmary and from the infirmary to the Daedalaus and then to Earth. He wasn’t allowed anywhere else since they were keeping a close eye on Will’s mental health. They were making extra allowances since Will wasn’t a soldier and hadn’t had the years of training that the rest of the Atlantis staff had. The cast on his arm was merely a poor excuse. Peters and his team were regular visitors in the infirmary and they made time to see Will off. 

Will had tried to apologize once while confined to the infirmary. Peters had waved him off. “You are a civilian, not a soldier. We know better than to expect you to act like a soldier. You’re not supposed to act like a soldier. Hell, it took Dr. Jackson years to sometimes act like a soldier and he still wanders off like a scientist from time to time.”

“We’ve gotten scientist baby-sitting duty too often,” Cohl added.

Jacobson smirked. “That’s how we knew to keep a close eye on you. Civilians never do as they’re told.”

Jacobson was never nice to Will, except when giving him pain pills. That reminded him. “Did you restock?” 

Jacobson’s face turn blank. “Restock?”

“The pills you gave me,” Will reminded him. “You should ask a nurse for more since you’re here.”

“Sure,” Jacobson agreed readily.

“Or were they from your personal stash,” Peters teased. Jacobson turned slightly red. “So you do like our temporary dance teacher after all.”

Lingman whispered to Will about a jarhead’s precious pain management stash and how they were for emergencies and normally for self-medication. In light of the new information, Will caught Jacobson’s eye long enough to offer a sincere ‘thank you.’

Jacobson shook off the comment with a gruff ‘welcome.’

Cohl changed the subject to when Will was being released from the infirmary and when Will was being sent home and that was the end of that.

Cohl and Peters kept Will undated on how many Wraith drones that were killed on Maepre. They told how Colonel Sheppard was trying to convince the Maepre to change planets. The natives didn’t want to move. They were convinced that since Will had returned to Atlantis that the Wraith would stop looking for him on the planet. They also agreed to a treaty, so Will’s mission had been a success.

In sharing secrets, the Maepre finally revealed to the Atlantians that their way of walking and dancing was intentional. They used it to identify Wraith worshippers, Genii and other outsiders that could bring trouble. The Maepre told the premiere team that they were aware of second older couple that had to be Wraith worshippers and how they had been told that only Will had the capacity for knowing where the darts would be. Since the Wraith had not returned, the Maepre were sure that the truth had been believed.

While in the infirmary, Will was visited by McKay and Sheppard. They set up a huge monitor that stretched the width of Will’s gurney and showed Will the recordings of previous Wraith aerial battles. McKay then evaluated Will’s percentages of knowing where the darts were going. Though all of McKay’s testing and snide remarks (Sue had nothing on the acid of the physicist), Sheppard figured out why the Wraith wanted Will alive: each Wraith Hive had a slightly different ‘choreography’ in the sky. Anyone who could identify and remember them like Will could would give an edge to his allies.

Though Will could map out the sky choreography from the recordings, it wouldn’t do Atlantis much good: they had destroyed most of those Hive ships. What Will could do was find similarities, the common denominators between all the Hive ships. Those pieces of sky choreography, Will pointed out to Sheppard and Lorne. Since all the Hive ships had the same origin, there were several. He also pointed out the paths of safety. The pilots knew and understood the tactics used in dart dogfights, but they needed a plan against the darts while they were on the ground. 

Will offered every scrap of information he had gleaned from his experiences. Then it was time to return to Earth. Earth. Safety. Lima, Ohio. McKinley High and New Directions. While Will was adjusting to the shift in safety level, he had a couple horrifying nightmares of Sue Sylvester as a Wraith. Other than that, Will did pretty good. The nightmares about the family of three that had died were reoccurring, but every time that happened, Will remembered the forgiveness of the older girl and their dance. The base shrink released him to travel home with a few admonitions. Will had to list what dance steps he was going to take back to New Directions. The dance steps from Maepre kept Will busy. He had a lot of fun new ones to teach his students. He wanted to make sure he remembered every one. The he realized that he could use the Wraith formations also. If he moved the dancers from that Wraith formation to that Wraith formation…

Atlantis’ shrink was smart. Will had a way to distance himself from the attack on Maepre. He also had his first two weeks of lesson plans for New Directions. In honor of Maepre and the people living there, his students would tell stories through dance alone.

Now if only Will could get the image of Wraith Sue Sylvester out of his head, he would be fine. It was scarier than real life.

 

 

***glee*sga* glee*sga***

**August 17, 2011**

 

Will jogged out to the football field in sweats and a t-shirt. Coach Beiste was watching all the players with an eagle eye. “Hey, Coach,” he called respectively. “Can I join your team for their workout?”

Shannon Beiste didn’t look pleased with the request, but she wasn’t going to ask questions in front of the high school boys. “Do a warm-up lap,” she called out. “Mr. Schuester will join you on the longer run.” She waited and the boys hadn’t moved yet. They were too busy staring at Will. “Well?” The entire team took off at a jog. Shannon waited until they were out of hearing range. “Will, what’s going on?”

“I need to stay in shape,” Will told her honestly. “And I prefer team efforts. I don’t want to run by myself. I’d never improve. I’d stop before the week was out, finding more enjoyable things to do.”

“What about your cast? This is going to make you sweat and them your cast will get itchy.”

Will lifted the cast slightly. I have an experimental cast. I’m supposed to sweat to prove that it won’t get itchy. And it’s coming off soon.”

Shannon didn’t believe him. “This isn’t about running so that you can sleep despite of the PTSD induced nightmares.”

Will looked genuinely shocked. “You think I have PTSD?”

“I think you gained a lot of maturity in a relatively short amount of time. You have a broken arm. That means trauma that happened before now.”

“But I don’t have a disorder about it,” insisted Will. “I just wasn’t as good at running as I wanted to be. I almost got someone else hurt. I want to be ready, just in case.”

“You’re going back?”

“Hopefully next summer.” Will bounced excitedly. “I was going to ask if you could come as my assistant. If you want… I mean, it won’t be as nice when I return home next time and the house isn’t clean and a fridge isn’t stocked–are you ever going to tell me how much that cost you? Every piece of advice that you gave me before I went helped me out there. Your level head in every situation would be even more important on the spot.” Will saw the team approaching the two teachers. “Think about it?”

Shannon frowned. “I can’t help but to think about it.” As the team passed and Will joined them she yelled. “Step it up! Faster! Higher! We’re not on the playground.” Shannon waited until they were out of hearing before muttering, “But we are on the playground of life.”

She realized that if Will was serious about getting into even better shape for the summer, and that he wanted to bring Shannon with him for his summer job, than she better improve her physical abilities as well. She jogged as inner loop to the team’s outer loop and yelled insults at them to make them move faster. Will laughed at every insult. He had changed… for the better. Shannon could always use some improvement and an active reminder that this _was_ the playground of life and not to take it so seriously.

*glee*sga* glee*sga*


End file.
